


Wake me up...

by AssbuttToTheWorld



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Castiel meeting Dean for the first time, Comedy, Dean and Cas relationship, Destiel - Freeform, Drama, F/M, Fear, Fluff, Longing, Love, M/M, Pain, Realtionship, Romance, cuteness, gay relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-04-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:24:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5890891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AssbuttToTheWorld/pseuds/AssbuttToTheWorld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story switches between two timelines.<br/>One begins when Castiel meets Dean Winchester for the first time.<br/>Dean is very suspicious of the angel at first, but then he decides to trust him. From this point on his live gets even weirder than it had been before. And this dorky little angel becomes an important part of his live.<br/>The second timeline takes place in the future where one member of Team Free Will is left all alone in the bunker, only surrounded by his memories, longing for a better live.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prolog - Keeping me awake at night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My precious xOxOxPiEL0VAxOxOx](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+precious+xOxOxPiEL0VAxOxOx).



He had thought the pain would go away. Well, it had gone away for some time. But on days like these, alone, surrounded by nothing but loneliness, his feelings crashed down onto him like waves in an ocean, trying to drown him underneath them.

He curled up in the quiet room, pulling the blanket higher. The bunker was silent, like always, like all the past years that had gone by. 

Not a single soul was around, except for him. 

His gaze went to the picture frame on the nightstand. It was empty. But the picture that had been there wasn’t lost. He just wasn’t able to look at it without feeling this unwanted sadness dwelling in his chest, taking away his breath… It was placed save and sound in the drawer of the nightstand. One of the few things he had altered, since he was alone in the bunker.  
He inhaled deeply, trying to get his mind off of the thoughts that haunted him right now. However they always wandered back to the ones he had lost so long ago. 

He closed his eyes. Memories were flooding his brain, making him bury his face deep into the pillow. His chest felt heavy. His throat felt like someone was closing his fingers harshly around it and pressing it together.  
“ I am sorry…” His voice was croaky and breaking, his whole body trembling. “ I am sorry…” He whispered again into the silence.


	2. "Oh, what a happy day!", the lord said

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean Winchester just escaped hell and wants to know who rescued him.  
> After consulting Pamela (with little success), he decided to summon that mysterious 'Castiel' together with Bobby. From this point on his live gets even weirder than it had been before. Especially when Cas doesn't know the concept of 'personal space'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapters, which are taking place since Cas met Dean, are considered memorie-flashback of the last remaining member of Team Free Will.

“Who are you?” Dean tried his best, not to let his voice tremble. Bobby was lying on the floor, unconscious.  
Castiel tilted his head to one side, furrowed his brows. “I am the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”  
Dean squinted his eyes, suspiciously watching the smaller figure in the trenchcoat and with the messy hair.  
“Yeah, right... “ Dean didn’t take his eyes of the wanna-be-angel. Angels didn’t exist. They were fairy tales…  
Castiel looked at him. “I don’t believe you. “ Dean then said. Castiel looked Dean right in the eyes, while unfolding his wings. In this form, the other one could only see a shadow in the silhouette of wings. Castiel wouldn’t show his real wings completely to a stranger, even if he had just rescued his soul from hell. 

Dean stared at Castiel in awe. “... Why would an angel rescue me from hell?” Dean asked. “Good things do happen, Dean.” Cas replied, his voice calm, his eyes fixed on the hunter. “Well, yeah, not in my opinion.” Dean growled.  
“What is the matter? Why do you think you don’t deserve to be saved?” Castiel’s gaze lingered on Dean’s face, trying to figure out this human in front of him. The angel had never had much contact with humans before. Well, not like this at last.  
Dean fell silent for a minute. “So, what do you want?” he asked the angel after a while.  
“We have work for you, Dean Winchester “ Castiel replied, calmly.

-A few weeks later-

Dean Winchester had met an angel. The man who had not prayed much, who hadn’t believed in angels, or god, until the moment Castiel stumbled into his life, was now accompanied by said angel. Although he preferred to call him ‘Cas’, because it was wayshorter. And the angel didn’t seem to mind that nickname at all. Even Sam used that nickname now.

Dean leaned back in his bed, the laptop on his knees. He wasn’t doing research. More likely browsing through the internet, watching videos of cats, people failing on different tasks, or sexy women undressing or striking sweet poses.  
Sam was somewhere around the town looking around for stuff they’d need and looking at the sights. Dean wasn't very interested in sightseeing. He preferred his solitude in the motel room, alone with his busty-asian-sweethearts.

Right as Dean wanted to make himself ‘comfortable’ he heard a rustling of wings and shortly after a very familiar voice. “Dean?” Castiel looked at him, the head slightly tilted to one side, standing right beside Dean’s bed. Dean nearly jumped out of the bed, slammed the laptop shut and stared at the angel. “CAS! For the last time! How often did we discuss personal space, buddy?!” he hissed at the angel. He was never so glad to have a blanket by hand. It would just have led to very uncomfortable explaining.

Cas blinked in incomprehension. “Dean, I have maybe found something and-”  
“Can’t it wait?” Dean snapped at Cas. Cas took a step back from the bed in surprise. “I am sorry, did I interrupt you with something important?” the angel then asked.  
Dean groaned slightly annoyed “Yes, yes you have.” the hunter replied. He was not in the mood to argue with the dorky angel who always had the worst timing. 

Cas looked at Dean, his look turning into that puppy-like look he always got when he thought he had done something wrong. Dean’s eyes got a little gentler and he sighed, defeated. He knew Cas only wanted to do his best at helping the Winchester brothers to fulfill their tasks. 

The angel was still looking at the hunter. “What did you find, Cas?” the hunter’s voice was less pissed than before and Cas dared to step closer again.  
“I found something concerning the seals.“ the angel answered.  
“Yeah, I figured that. But what?” Dean looked up to him.  
Cas tilted his head. “I might know, where the next one should be opened. My brothers and sisters are talking about it all the time and I thought we should go there and try to keep the seal shut.” 

Dean looked at him “So, ‘angel radio’ told you where to go ?” he asked.  
Cas nodded. “Yes. And if we want to stop the seal from breaking, we should go, Dean.”  
Dean sighed. “Yeah, yeah all right.” he reached for his phone and opened a SMS. Alone time was over, they had work to do. He typed, while Cas watched him closely. _‘Sammy, we gotta roll. Bring your ass back home. Cas found clues about a seal.’_


	3. Routine, routine, routine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'He' is alone in the bunker, wandering around the empty place. Trapped in memories of the good old time. Before the most terrible day of his life.

He was moving around the bunker. Carefully, to not distort a single piece.  
He had left nearly everything in the exact same space since the horrible day he lost… everything he ever had. He was checking on the protection signs against demons and angels. Although he knew that angels wouldn’t be able to enter the bunker like this, he also knew there wasn’t anyone to come to see him. 

He made his daily round, which started with checking the signs, then proceeded going on to the library.  
It was a routine he had kept, to keep him sane. To keep him from going mental.  
He needed something to distract his thoughts… His fingers slowly ran over the book spines.  
They were all sorted by topic, then by author. It was a nice order system Sam had established after there had been that big mess where these weird figures had searched through the bunker.

He shook his head slightly, as if to shy away his thoughts of the past.  
The unpleasant feeling was back again, lurking and slowly clutching its hands around his chest, making it harder to breathe. 

He turned right, walked down to the cellars. His steps echoed from the walls, leaving a spooky feeling behind. He was already used to it. His steps echoing in every room, no matter which one he entered.  
It was an annoying perk of being alone. He never liked being alone that much. Even if he got used to it in the past, he knew he could always return to the other two. 

But there was no one left to return to now.  
Just the memories lingering around the bunker, ready to jump him any second from a dark corner.  
He tried his best to keep his mind distracted.  
But his thoughts strolled back to the good times. When they all were united. And even though the memories were nice and happy, they made him incredibly sad, because he was always remembered what he had lost. What he once had.

His steps lead him to Sam’s room now. He wandered around it, looking at some of the things Sam had left behind.  
He went to the bed to flatten the sheets.  
Well, they weren’t crumbled much, because no one slept in there anymore. No one would ever sleep in there again. He straightened up and took a deep breath, keeping the tears away. 

He turned around, leaving the room again.  
His routine was laid out to let him wander through the bunker several times. There would’ve been more efficient ways on how to get things done more effectively.  
But he had time.  
There was no one ready for a hunt.  
There was no one to talk to.  
There was no one waiting for him...


	4. C'mon, Sammy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean finds out, that Sam is meddling with the demon Ruby.  
> And the angels threaten to kill Sam, if Dean can't stop him.

“What were you thinking, Sam?!”, Dean’s voice trembled with anger. His little brother opposed him, leaning on the wall, as if he wanted to hide in it. “She is a demon!”, Dean’s voice trembled. “Why do you even trust her? She’s on the wrong side!”  
Sam catched his brother’s angry stare, but he didn’t turn away. Sam’s lips turned into a small pout, being angry and frustrated himself. 

“You were gone, Dean. And I, I had to continue! I am doing the right thing! I help people, Dean.”, he raised his head even more, to face his older brother.   
Dean clenched his fist. He was just away for a few months and Sam was already meddling with demons, bringing himself into danger. To the point, angels threatened to kill Sam, if Dean couldn’t find a way to stop his brother. 

Dean shivered a little, although it was still warm. Castiel’s voice seemed to have burned into his head. It echoed, like a dangerous warning. The threat. The threat to kill Sam.   
Dean gulped, went closer to Sam, who still stared at Dean, angry and hurt. “Sam, ….”, Dean took a deep breath. “I can’t tell you how wrong you are…”, the older one searched for the right words. “You are so wrong,.... Cas told me, if I wouldn’t stop you, they would. Do you know what that means, Sammy? If you don’t stop, angels will kill you! How wrong do you think you need to be, that angels want to kill you?”

Sam opened his mouth, but the words got stuck in his throat. Seeing Dean’s hurt and concerned look, made it impossible for the younger one, to talk back. “I thought… I was doing the right thing…”, Sam mumbled, looking down on his shoes. He just wanted to help people. Why was that too much to ask? The younger one had lost his brother. He had nothing left. And then there was Ruby, taking care of him, showing him how he could use his powers, to actually help people. Not all of them needed to die. 

If Sam practised enough, he’d be able to save more people. He thought he was doing the right thing. Like the family motto: Saving people, hunting things.   
But Dean’s hurt and worried face told the younger hunter other wise.   
Maybe Sam really was wrong?


	5. Waves Crashing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 'He' is left alone in the bunker, ridden with guilt and haunted by nightmares.

His lungs were filled with fear as he was slowly drowning in an ocean of sorrow. Waves crashing down on him every time he tried to break through the surface. The surface slid further away. More and more. The light was vanishing, the darkness welcomed the lost soul filled it with agonizing pain, fear and heartache.

His own screams woke him up. He was hastily turning his head, scanning the place with his eyes. Nothing and no one was here. The place was empty, as usual.   
A strange ringing in his ears had been left behind by the nightmares that haunted him. Every night had their own. However this night was full of nightmares and old memories. 

His beating heart slowly calmed down, but it didn't keep his head from spinning. He reached for a glass of water, jugging it within one breath. he put the glass back on the bedside table, his fingers still trembling. He rubbed over his eyes, covering his face in his hands and pulling his feet closer to his body. He inhaled deeply several times to calm himself. These dreams, these nights got worse. But there was no one left to talk to. No place where he could go to. No one who would listen to him anymore. 

He needed to cope with his feelings all alone now. With all these different nuances of sadness that were flowing through his body and slowly, but steady paralyzing him until the moment all thought would benumb his entire body.

He leaned back against the cool wall, letting his gaze wander around the room. It didn’t change at all since he decided to use it as his room. Photos of the winchester family were hung next to guns and other hunting devices on the wall. A few memory pieces were put on a table stand, but a thick layer of dust had covered them. Although he cleaned most of the bunker, he hadn’t touched the bedrooms much. All the things in them still sat on their places, where they were left behind. They were like this since the last day… since the day he had gambled and lost everything. And it was all his fault. Only his.


	6. Freakin' Featherheads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean rambling about freakin' featherheads aka angels and Castiel searching for the next seal.

Dean was sitting in his room, glooming. His stare fixed on the opposite wall, as if it was the most interesting thing he had ever seen. His thoughts lingered around the past, that Cas had shown him. How his mother had lived, how she had made the deal. He still couldn’t believe she did it. And that yellow-eyed demon-bastard was no good at all either. Dean knew he was eventually coming after Sam. For whatever reason that thing had. Dean growled “Son of a bitch.” and sat up. The older hunter needed some distraction. 

“So, where has Sammy put the computer…?” Dean mumbled to himself, as he was searching his brother’s motel room. Dean walked out of Sam’s room, as his search stayed without result. But then his look fell on the thing on the dinner table. Sam had just left it there. Perfect. 

Dean hijacked the laptop and brought it to his room, not without taking a beer and some pie with him. He really needed a little distraction. All these things about demons, angels and whatever shit was thrown at the Winchester brother’s messed with Dean’s head. Sometimes he wished for a vacation. Without any monsters, or other things that tried to kill him and Sammy. Just a few days without any of this crap.

Maybe on the beach. Or in the woods, camping. As Dean thought about it, his face became a frown. No, no woods. The beach sounded way more ghost- and monster-proof unless Nessy (which Dean was sure did NOT exist) decided to learn how to teleport and wander across the dunes. But the proofness against supernatural stuff wasn’t the only reason why Dean Winchester wanted to go to the beach for vacation. He’d like to watch some baywatch-babes running down the dunes to save a guy from drowning. He grinned as he imagined their boobs jumping up and down while running or the sight of their behind from, well, behind. 

Dean grinned. Yeah, that sight definitely was something the hunter could live with. And Sam would find something interesting to come along too. Maybe some weird museum that depicted the history of the sea or something like that. Dean decided to put that plan aside, but he kept it in mind, when there were fewer cases. 

Dean sighed and leaned back against the head of his bed. Cas hadn’t been here for a while. Dean hadn’t been exactly what you’d call ‘nice’ to him. He couldn’t explain, but he sometimes got really snappy towards the angel that had flopped into his life. Maybe, because the hunter didn’t understand all that crappy stuff about angels vs. demons. And maybe he had never believed in something like ‘god’, because his life was a mess and Dean saw that parts of the world were a mess and thought that a god would do something about it. 

Dean shook his head. “Fuckin’ feather heads… “ he mumbled and took a big draught from his beer, then placed it on the bedside table again.   
“You called?”   
Dean screeched like a 5 year old and nearly fell out of the bed. “CAS! THE FUCK?!” the hunter grabbed the bedsheets and pulled himself up again, ignoring the angel offering him a hand.   
“How often did I tell you, that you just can’t pop up in my room without a warning beforehand?!” Dean growled. Cas looked at him in confusion. “But I did, Dean. And you called me.“ , the angel insisted.   
“I…-what?” Dean stared at the holy tax accountant, as he secretly called him sometimes, in awe. 

“Yes, you called me.” Castiel answered, his head slightly tilted to the left side. Dean still stared at the angel as the hunter straightened up. “uh...huh” was all Dean could say right now. So, “fuckin’ featherheads” was something Cas counted as a call?

He kind of avoided Cas’ gaze that lingered worried on the hunter. Dean grabbed his phone and, surprisingly, he saw an unread message. From Cas. He opened the message and read. ‘I am coming now. :) ’ nothing more, just this. Dean looked up to Cas. “Still hard to handle ?” he asked, slightly shaking the phone in his hand. 

Cas smiled lightly. “Yes, but I think it is getting better. I like the smiley faces.” Dean blinked, looked back at the phone and chuckled. “Yeah… s’ cool that you figured that out.” The hunter grinned slightly amused.  
Cas beamed, like a proud puppy that had brought back a stick and got a head-pat.   
However the angel got more serious again a few seconds later, fixating the hunter with his look. “I found a clue for the next seal.” the angel told Dean. Dean raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Where?”

The angel reached into his trench coat, pulling out a map. He unfolded it on the table, over the laptop and shortly scanned the map, until he pointed at a small town. “Here.”, Castiel said. “Then let’s get rolling.”, Dean shoved the map off the computer, packed it and then grabbed his stuff. After Sam returned, they would drive to that town and save that damn seal.


	7. My Promises

He didn’t know why he was even trying. Why he was trying to keep it up. Why he tried to live… It was his fault they were dead. It was his fault he was alone now…

He hid his face in the pillow to keep himself from thinking. But the tears came anyway. They were streaming down his face, hot and becoming cold when they touched the fabric. His muffled sobs echoed through the emptiness of the bunker. 

Back in the day after some while there would have been a comforting hand on his shoulder and arms that pressed him softly to a warm chest where he could hear a beating heart. Where he felt safe and nothing else mattered anymore. Where a soft voice whispered his name and told him everything was okay, because he was cared, loved and watched over. 

But he was alone now. A broken shell of a man. Left alone in silence and darkness, only ripped by his desperate sobs and quiet cries. 

He buried his face deeper into the pillow. It was wet and cold from his tears, but he didn’t care. He just wanted it to stop. Wanted the aching, the pain, the loneliness, the tears…. He just wanted it to be over. He wanted to be with them again. He was tired of being lonely. He was tired of feeling guilty. 

He took a deep breath. His fingers trembled so he clawed them deep into the fabric.  
These nights were the worst. Drowning in his feelings, in guilt and loneliness in desperation and pain… he thought he couldn’t go on anymore. But he needed to. 

He remembered his promise. The words that came over his friends' dying lips, as they ended their last breath… The promise that bound him here. 

_“I’ll keep going…”_


End file.
